Hubris
by Risque Scribe
Summary: Hermione Weasley is slowly but surely climbing her way to the top of the Ministry of Magic. But when a certain blonde haired gentleman offers assistance on a new law she gets more than she bargained for. Dramione with mentions of HG/RW. Slowburn with plenty of lemony goodness.


**A/N: Welcome to my newest creation dear readers! This story is a response to the Greek Myths Challenge. Please leave me a review and let me know what you think. Also if anyone is up to the task of betaing I'm always looking.**

 **-R.S.**

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 _There is no easy way to make a deal with the devil._ Hermione Weasley, née Granger, thought to herself as she hurried down one of the dank unused corridors in the older ministry of magic building.

She was late. It was completely her own fault. She waffled at the last minute debating whether or not to go through with the offer. An 11th hour show of consciousness quickly swept under the rug. _This is for the greater good._ She told herself not realizing the irony behind her words. She finally came to the board room that her contact had mandated they meet in. Quickly glancing up and down the hallway to make sure, once again, that she wasn't followed. Hermione pushed the door open and walked into the dark room.

"Hello?" She called, her voice wavering slightly as she stepped deeper into the darkness. "Is anyone here?"

There was a pop and then the accompanying hiss of a match being struck. The flame flickered casting an eerie light first on a hand and then on the mouth and cigarette of her would be accomplice. "Granger," he drawled. His tone of voice smug and self satisfied. He waved his wand and an orb of light came to rest above their heads. "I knew you would come."

"Malfoy?" Hermione was shocked. Seeing him after so long was jarring. It was like seeing a ghost. His father's aura seemed to seep out of every pore.

"Obviously, would you care to sit?" He gestured to the table and chairs next to them. "It seems that we have some business to discuss."

Hermione sat down still off kilter from the shock of Draco Malfoy wanting to help her of all people. She shook her head in an attempt to clear it. _I can't think like this._ He was sitting across from her droning on about something she knew was important in that condescending nasal tone she remembered from her days at Hogwarts. His rich, sweet smelling, cologne wafted off of him and she couldn't help but feel that even though he was across the table from her, he was also thoroughly encroaching upon her personal space.

"Granger?" His voice was sharp.

"Hmm?" Hermione dragged herself out of her thoughts and was present once again. "I'm sorry, this whole situation has me a little," she paused. _What's a tactful way to say what in the name of Merlin's sweaty ballsack are you doing here?_ "Thrown off," she finished lamely.

Malfoy chuckled. "The great Hermione Granger finally thrown off her game, I never thought I would see the day."

"It's Weasley, actually."

"What?"

"You keep calling me Granger. Ron and I got married last year. My name is Weasley now," she said, pleased to hear that her voice was regaining some of it's usual power.

"No matter," Draco waved his hand dismissively. "I heard you need help with your Werewolf Reformation Act. Apparently those old wankers in the Wizengamot aren't as progressive as you wanted to believe."

Hermione nodded. "This bill isn't gaining the traction I expected that it would."

"I can get it passed."

Hermione frowned. "How? I've tried everything."

"Let me worry about the logistics Granger," he smirked. "I'll need a small favor in return."

"I'm not doing you any favors Malfoy." Hermione bristled. "And my last name is Weasley now."

"Look you're obviously desperate and I can help." Draco held out his hand expectantly. "After all, it's for the greater good."

Hermione sized him up. Trying to figure out exactly what he wanted. "Fine, but I won't do anything illegal," she said as she took his hand.

"I wouldn't ask you to," he dropped her hand and made his way to the exit. Before shouting over his shoulder, "What do I look like? A criminal?" And then he was gone.


End file.
